


Lord of Battles ; Lady of Spring

by SakiaLumei



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Brief Violence, Comfort Sex, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Freeform, God of War Xander, Goddess of Harvest Mozu, Non-Explicit Sex, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 18:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7944586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SakiaLumei/pseuds/SakiaLumei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why is it that you bring life and happiness, and I nothing but death and sorrow...and yet, you still share your wonderful existence with me..." There had to be more to him than ending the lives in mortals and living off their fear. The Harvest Goddess had no such thoughts or burdens. What did she have that he did not?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lord of Battles ; Lady of Spring

**Author's Note:**

> THE SIN NO ONE ASKED FOR. YET. HERE IT IS.
> 
> Okay, okay, I had to jot down this one shot before continuing more of Princess and the Pauper. It took me all week but ehhh I guess it was worth it. It doesn't have the usual plot and syntax polishing as my other fic. It's also maybe a little more surreal. Hopefully it's still a good read though since I kinda just did whatever, haha! 
> 
> Thanks for taking interest in it!

He was born of the first blood spilt between man. He was the wrath, the anger, and the ambition. They erected statues and temples for him, praying at his altar for valor and strength. With a wave of his hand, he could turn the tides of any battle in his favor. There was naught a mortal soldier that did not dream of receiving his blessing, his unmatched prowess. For the victorious, he was a warrior of gold that brought them glory and honor. For the unfortunate, he was the omen of death riding towards them on his black stead. Each sacrifice, each ritual was done out of fear. Fear of loss, fear of death, fear of him.

Mortals found such silly reasons to spill blood on the sands and grass. Yet, he couldn’t help it. He survived on this worship with each cornucopia and each neck slit giving him his strength. Surely, there had to be more to mortal life than waiting to take another’s. There had to be something in between the birth and death of someone’s existence.

Where were the ones who did not fight? Where were the ones who bore these soldiers? He had many of these questions. Carefully slipping away from his temple in the heavens, the god of war descended upon the mortals, disguising as one of them. He walked among them in one of their largest cities where man and child ran aplenty. Here, none of them brandished blades at each other’s throats. He witnessed the ever complex practice of trading goods for designated currency. Children ran through the streets, laughing. Women carried pots over their heads. He had seen this from afar, but it was much more fascinating up close. Still curious, he followed the stone roads to the outside of the city where a long field of gold stretched before him.

It was here that he saw them work the fields, harvesting their bountiful crop. Though the work was toiling and the sun bright, they smiled as they gathered the wheat.

He hadn’t seen such expressions before, ones without ill intent or pain behind them. It…confused him. He let himself stroll among the field, careful not to draw any attention or step on their crop. The soil smelled of pure earth and it was wonderful without the stench of copper in blood to mask it. A soft wind blew as the wheat swayed against it, the air fresh without any pollution. He stopped walking once he was close to two women.

One was old and frail with wrinkles on her face and hands. She knelt on the floor as another, cloaked, helped her stand. She handed the old woman the wheat she harvested, earning gratitude and thanks. The other woman, while cloaked, he knew that she was not one of the mortals. He stalked over before she could escape and put a hand on her shoulder. “You there,” he said.

She stared up with her hood lowered, eyes like the bark of a tree and hair like the soil of the earth. Her face was plain, her cheeks peppered with freckles unlike the other goddesses with extraordinary features. From the lack of surprise in her eyes, she must have known that he was of her kind as well. “Who are you?” she asked.

“You know not who I am?”

“You don’t seem to know me either,” she said. “Or…do you?”

He narrowed his brows, frowning as he took his hand away. “…I’m afraid not,” he said. “I know others like us exist. Though, many do not like to consort with me.”

She blinked once, tilting her head. “And why is that?”

“I am Xander,” he said. “The patron of war.”

She tilted her head a little more before narrowing her eyes. “War? Have you come to…”

“No.”

“Ah! That’s good!” she said, suddenly cheery. “I’d hate for a fight to ruin everything…” She trailed off, perhaps realizing the mistake in her words.

Xander shook his head. “Don’t apologize,” he said. “This…this is all I have ever known.”

She frowned, her eyes glossy. “That’s kinda sad,” she said, pushing some of her hair behind her ear, “isn’t it?”

“…I never thought that it was,” he said. “And you? If you are like me, then you have known only one thing in your existence as well.”

She laughed, putting a fist over her lips. “I guess…” she said, still retaining a smile. “I’m Mozu, by the way…patron of harvest and spring.”

“Harvest and spring?... Ah, so you feed the mortals and bring them the first sprouts?”

“Yup! So…maybe you are kinda right,” she said. “All I’ve ever known is agriculture.”

He chuckled. “Still, a more noble cause than bloodshed,” he said, pausing after his last word. “So, tell me, why is a goddess here among mortals?”

“Couldn’t I ask you the same thing?”

“…You could,” he said, crossing his arms. “I did ask first,”

“Well, it’s much better for me to be here than in my temple,” she said, gesturing to the wheat around her. “I came from Earth when new life started to sprout. Since then, I’ve been helping out the common folks an’ providing them when I can,”

“I see…” he said, watching her kneel down and take a some wheat in her hands. “Do they fear you if you don’t?”

“F-fear?” she asked, staring back at him. “G-goodnes, no... that doesn’t happen. Oh!” she said, standing back up. “But they do have festivals,”

“Festivals?”

“Oh yes!” she said, clapping her hands together. “There’s food and merriment aplenty! Everyone’s singing and dancing and just…enjoying their lives.”

“…I see,” he said, his voice hushed. “Sounds…wonderful,”

“You should come to the next one,” she said.

His head perked up. “Will you be there?” Mozu’s brows raised as she put her hands behind her back. She smiled, finally, and nodded.

“Yes,”

“Then I will see you there.”

Hm. One day among the mortals and instead, he found a goddess. More importantly, he was invited to one of her rituals. A festival, she called it?

* * *

He had been watching from afar the same city as the day crawled closer. Every day, the same men did the same thing and the women as well. They farmed or sold their wares without fail each and every day. Xander frowned, knowing that such repetition wasn't the element he missed. He wondered if this festival would prove anything at all. The evening of the festival crept up soon enough. Wielding the same disguise, he descended down to mingle among the mortals gathering at the city’s entrance. It was as the goddess had said: they ran around in merriment, feasting on the season’s gatherings and drinking their fill of water and wine. Many young girls dressed in white gowns to emulate the goddess’s image. As he stood in the center, taking everything in, someone tapped on his shoulder.

“You came,” said the harvest goddess.

“I did,” he said, turning towards her. Though it was subtle, he felt her warm aura, now strong from the festival. She adorned herself with a crown of daffodils and a dress of peach with gold beads around her arms. Last time, her hair had been tied away for work much like the mortal women, but here, she let it loose and dangling around her shoulders. “You look wonderful,” he said, “I apologize that I did not dress myself accordingly.”

“Awe,” she said, waving her hand, “don’t even worry about it!” She reached forward, taking his hands in hers. “Let’s go dance!”

“D-dance?” he asked as she pulled him. “But I’ve never…”

“They can’t see us anyway,” she said, bringing him to the circle of humans dancing among themselves. After she brought him to the center, Xander turned his head to watch and hear the new sensations he hadn’t experienced before. Instead of the foreboding drums of war, instruments made of wood and played with the wind from one’s mouth sang a bouncing melody. The drums were not steady, but instead, played with a fast, ever-changing rhythm. As the humans danced, only the balls of their bare feet touched the floor, bouncing and spinning as they clapped in beat.

She pulled her hands away and took the skirts of her dress, holding them as she bowed. He mimicked her movements, unsure what to do. She held her hand up and motioned for him to press his calloused palm against hers. Slowly, they circled around each other until a smile faded on his lips. He noticed how she practically floated on the tips of her toes and how she swayed in rhythm to the music. Xander offered his other hand, which she took eagerly. Mozu laughed as she danced with him, at times, making him twist and lose grip in uncomfortable ways.

But it was new. He had seen nearly everything he was accustomed too in such different ways. No one suffered, no one grew proud. Pure laughter came from her and the mortals. How, in all of his years, had he never seen such sights and heard such music before?

As he came to a stop, an all too familiar sting of envy lurched in his stomach. He made the smile on her lips fade into a frown as he pulled his hands away. “What’s wrong?” she asked as he took a step back.

“…Nothing of your doing, I promise.” Xander shook his head and turned away. “I’m…thank you for this night,”

“X-Xander?...” He felt her reach for him, but it was too late and he was already staring at the entrance of his temple.

* * *

Far from the border of the city, he was called to arms. For this, they had slaughtered a goat at his altar for many nights. It was always strange, he thought, that each battle the mortals fought, they absolutely had to win each time. Thankfully, this time, he was called to the side that would defend their attackers from seeping into the country. He would have hated to support the attackers that would creep closer and closer to the city where he met the goddess. Surely, she would blame him for the destruction that fell upon her people and her crop.

Perhaps, even if the intruders had offered a better reward, had worshipped him more, he still would have refused them their victory. There was nothing that could force him to do so anyway.

Both side met, rallying cries of war coming from either side. Prayers for him. Though the soldiers did nothing but shout, he could hear their words to him, seeping from their soul. _Grant me strength. Lessen my pain_. _Lead us to victory._

Though he had heard it many times, one prayer stood out from the rest.

_Help me protect my family._

He looked below him, trying to pick out whose prayer it was, but it belonged to many.

_Protect my comrades. Protect my brother. My father. My wife. My children. O Son of First Blood, take my life if it means victory._

Surely, he had heard prayers like these before. So why, now, did they ring louder than before? What separated them from the others? These, he thought as he looked down at his people, these are the ones who ask nothing for themselves. They ask for strength only to shield their beloved from the terrors of war.

Very well, he thought. Then those are the ones whose blades and arrows he will guide, and whose shields he will strengthen.

* * *

 Power came with a price.

After each battle, without fail, he would come back to his temple, weakened, and covered in the blood of mortals who perished. As a reminder of the rages of war, it stained everything he touched for the time being. Not even water from the clouds could wash him of it. Time and time again, he was forced to sustain the toll and this time was no different.

He heard only his footsteps and the drips he left behind as his ethereal attendants welcomed him home. As he walked, they helped slip off his armor until he was left but nothing but his sandals and robes. He sat on his throne and watched the blood from his arms drip onto the arms of his gold chair. He hung his head with a sigh, feeling a drop trickle down his cheek. Now, he would wait for his strength to return and the blood to shed away.

“Lord Xander,” said one of his attendants. “Someone is here to see you.”

He lifted his head, brows furrowing and eyes narrowing as he looked up. “And who could that be?”

“The Lady of Spring.” Mozu? She was here? Damn, and he was so unsightly.

With a sigh as he pinched the bridge of the nose, he allowed her to be brought to him. The doors opened and soft, nearly inaudible footsteps came his way. He heard her gasp, no doubt because of his visage. With tired eyes and an empty frown, he asked why she was here.

Mozu did not answer and simply quickened her pace towards him until she stood right before him. “Xander…” she breathed, putting a hand over her chest. She reached a slow hand towards him, but before she could touch him, he moved his arm away.

“Don’t,” he said through his teeth.

“It’s not yours, though…” she said, pulling her hand back. “Whose…?”

“The mortals’,” he said, resting his back against the throne with a sigh. “Those who perished in the throes of battle.” She half-frowned with a pout, taking a step back. He noticed now that though she dressed plainer, she still retained the natural beauty she had at the festival. He must look like a demon to her. “…Fear not,” he said, “the people can rest safely,”

“You helped push them back, didn’t you?” He nodded. “I thought so.” She tilted her head again, this time, smiling warmly. “Thank you.”

Xander blinked in surprise. “For what?”

“You don’t know?” she asked with a soft chuckle. “You saved a lot of people because you helped. You just said they’d sleep easier, didn’t you?”

“W-well, y-yes, but only because the battle is over…”

“Yes, but now, the city isn’t in any danger. Neither are the crop fields…” She lifted her hand to reach for him, but suddenly pulled her hand away. Probably for the best. “So for that…thank you…”

* * *

 He learned that the feeling was gratitude. Something that a warmonger never receives.

He watched over the men whom he had looked after in the last battle, the ones with families. Some came back completely fine, others missing an arm or a leg, and others not at all. From those who did come back, he watched tears streak down the faces of their wives and mothers. Somehow, he knew that those tears hadn’t a shred of sorrow in them. As for the families of those who did not return, they stared silently into the distance, their faces bereft of emotion. That is what war does, he thought. It turns people into empty shells.

Breaking his sight, an attendant informed him that the Lady of Spring returned. At least today, he was free of the bloodstain after battle. Today, she brought a basket of fresh fruit grown at her own temple. When he asked her why, she simply replied that she wanted to see his reaction to tasting them.

He took a peach in his hands and lifted it to his mouth. As he sunk his teeth in for a bite, divine juices spilled down his chin as sweet flavors burst onto his tongue. He chuckled, tasting the juices each time he bit down. Once he swallowed, he wiped his mouth with his hand. “That’s incredible…”

“Ah! I’m so happy you like it!” she said, clapping her hands together.

“You doubted the fruits of your creation?”

“W-well…” she said, rubbing the back of her head. “A little…”

Or better yet. She might have doubted him instead but would dare not say it aloud. He relaxed his shoulders, trying to match her warm smile. “Pardon me, but I cannot think of a reason why you would come here again.”

She frowned, taking a step back. “Did…did you not want me to? I-I’m sorry if I intruded,”

“Oh, no!” he said, “Not at all! I’m just…” he sighed, “I just can’t understand what you gain from seeing me.”

Mozu blinked in surprise before she grinned, cheeks rounding. “Oh, silly!” she said with a laugh, “What if I just like seeing you?”

He lifted a brow. “But how could that be? Last time, I was…”

She shook her head. “I think…I think you get misunderstood,” she said, taking a cautious step forward. “And, I think you misunderstand yourself…” He scoffed. “I’m serious!” she said, pouting again. “Why were you down there among the fields that day?”

“Huh?”

“You never did tell me,” she said, crossing her arms. “You had to have gone there for a reason…”

Xander knit his brows together, remembering the day clearly. Though he could see each sight and smell each scent easily, the initial reason of his descent eluded him. Something about seeing the ones who did not fight? His lips parted when he finally recalled. “I…I wanted to see what was there for them,”

“For who?”

“The mortals,” he said, lifting his head. “All I have ever known was their desire to be superior. Surely, I thought, that not all men fought only to die in vain. There had… _had_ to be something else.”

Mozu was motionless and she simply looked up at him, her eyes focused. She waited until he finished speaking to reach up and place a hand on his chest. “You’re not wrong,” she said.

“You seem to know the answer,”

“Mmm…there are many things the mortals want in their lives,” she said. “You’re a big part of what many men strive to become.” Her hand slid up to his shoulder. “But there are other things besides power that they want,”

“…They want you,” he said. “They want life to grow from their earth to feed their hunger,”

“That...is true,” she said as pink dashed on her cheeks. “But, you knew that,”

“…You have something I don’t,”

“So do you,”

“No, whatever it is, it makes you better,” he said, pulling away so her hand dropped.

Mozu frowned, holding her hand. “I never said I was better than you,”

“You didn’t have to,”

She spoke his name in exasperation. “I…I never came here to gloat,” she said, her eyes scowling. “Besides, you know if you wanted, you could…”

He knew what she would say next. His hand twitched as his eyes narrowed. “Could what?”

“You could…easily…” She swallowed thickly. “You could crush me with just your hands.”

He growled, turning his body away. “And what kind of power is that? What pleasure could I take from doing that?”

“…Whether you like it or not, Xander,” she said, her tone somber, “You are the strongest. You grant power to those who deserve it,”

“…Not always…”

“Well,” she said, “maybe you should do something about that.” She reached for him again, putting a hand on his back. Though he wanted to flinch away, he resisted. “It’s your power and your responsibility.”

He paused. “I know,”

“If you feel like you’re doing something wrong, then you should figure it out.” He turned back towards her, his expression calming. “…My temple is always open for you,” she said, taking a couple of steps back.

“You’re leaving?” He looked down at the basket of fruit on the floor. “Don’t you want to…?”

“No, they’re yours,” she said with a smile. “Can…can I stop by another day?”

“Of course…” He would like that.

* * *

 The days of long sun passed by, the light waning a little after each night. Knowing nothing could grow when the nights came early and left late, the mortals harvested every last grain, every last vegetable and fruit. Their ingenious ways of using Mozu’s gifts always fascinated him. Though the fruits could be eaten straight, they chopped them up to make juices and wines for drinking. The vegetables could be boiled with animal that hunted that day for a warm, comforting stew. To them, fulfilling their need to eat was less of a chore and more of a delight. The lords of the land in their large palaces dined on an entire spread of Mozu’s finer gifts. Xander smirked in confidence that he was the one with the best.

Gods had no use to eat and simply did so for the pleasure of their taste buds. They were sustained solely on prayer and sacrifices by the mortals who kept them and their ideals alive. Though, that was a grave thought for him. Peace would never come to the world as long as he was alive.

His thoughts were disturbed when the goddess visited his temple again. This time, when he greeted her, she held a ceramic pot in her hands. “My, what is this?” he asked as led her inside.

“It’s lamb,” she said, setting it on one of his tables. He sat on one of the chairs as she lifted the lid off the pot. Steam escaped from the brown stew as a wonderful smell of herbs and spices hit his nose. He leaned forward.

“Goodness, where did you get this?”

“Hm? Whaddaya mean?” she asked, taking the ladle she had. “I made it.”

Xander laughed. “No…” he said, shaking his head. “…Really?”

“Yes, really!” she said, putting her hands on her hips and pouting again. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

He blinked in surprise. “Forgive me, I could not imagine it…you are a goddess after all. Why go through the trouble of stoking fires and spending all day stirring?”

Mozu sighed as she dipped the ladle into the stew. “There’s fulfillment,” she said with a smile. “It feels good to make good food…and to have people enjoy it,”

“…I see,” he said, watching her stir. “And who did you hope to enjoy it?”

“You, silly!” she said. “Why else would I come here?”

“Ah, w-well…” He cleared his throat, suddenly realizing the idiocy of his question.  “…I suppose I should thank you,”

“Not until you try it,” she said, lifting the ladle. She blew on it, which both confused and amused him. As if anything like that could burn a god’s tongue. She held out the ladle towards him and he leaned in. He tasted a good mouthful of stew and his eyes widened. Warmth filled his mouth bringing all sorts of tastes with it. First, the distinct salty and rich taste of the lamb mixed with the underlying herbs and spices created an incredible medley. He closed his eyes and took his time chewing, savoring the sensation for as long as he could. He sighed in contentment as he finished his bite.

“…Incredible,” he breathed, opening his eyes. “Though, I should expect nothing less from you,”

“Why? Because I’m a goddess?” she said with a grin.

He grinned too. “Because you’re you.” She blinked in surprise. “Even if you were mortal, I bet that you would be just as divine.”

Mozu’s freckled cheeks turned pink as she held her arms. “Oh…” she said, trying to hide her smile, “I…thank you.” She acted so human, didn’t she? One would think that a goddess who thrived on worship could handle a compliment or two. Still, it was refreshing to him. Even though he had seen her many times, she was still new. Still interesting with surprises each time she came.

How did she ever enjoy visiting him when he had nothing to offer?

Suddenly, he lifted his head, standing as she looked up at him. “Xander?” she asked as he took a step forward.

“…I’m sorry, Mozu. I’ve heard the call,”

“Th-the call?”

“Yes,” he said, looking down with pity. “The call to war.” He was about to walk past her, but she tugged on his arm. He could have easily broken away, but he stayed and turned.

“Wait,” she said, putting her free hand against her chest, “can you tell me what that’s like?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Compared to your rituals, it’s barbarous,” he said with a soft growl. She pressed her lips into a thin line, not wavering her expression. “…It’s an ugly cry,” he said, softly taking his hand away from hers. “One filled with madness and rage. Once one starts, many more will follow.”

She frowned and held her hands together. “Oh no…so…is war?...” Reluctant to tell her, he nodded. “…What happens if you don’t answer the call?”

“Same as you,” he said. “If I don’t exercise my power, the mortals will lose faith in me.”

“I see…” She looked back at him, her eyes determined. “Xander,” she said, reaching for his hand. She took his hand between hers, holding him tightly. “Please…come see me,”

He blinked at the strange request. "I...don't know if I can,"

“Please?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Just…if this does ends up being a big war, then…then you’ll need to rest,” she said. “And when you do, come see me.”

“…I will hold you to that.” That was a nice sentiment, though. No one had ever offered to grant him peace, even for a moment.

* * *

The battles raged on for months, well into the days of frost. A conqueror from another distant place was coming to claim his fair land, but Xander would not allow it. Though, it was difficult, for he was being attacked from all sides. At one time, he would be at the beach trying to sink the ships before they docked. In the next second, he was on the fields, guiding swords to flesh. Then, the next, atop a stone hill and erecting shields to stop the invaders from nicking them off with arrows.

Every night without fail, a maiden or a goat met its end on his altar. The priests wore their masks and chanted to him all day, sustaining him during these long weeks. He felt nothing but fear in those prayers once again and a constant reminder that the only thing he could do was keep these battles going and shed more blood in the process.

Not a day went by that the blood did not stain his arms, his back, his legs. A cosmic prank this had to be. Would any other deity such as him have to live with the sins that he was created for?

Surely Mozu didn’t.

No. She was given _festivals_ for her wellbeing where the mortals dance, sung, and ate to give her life when the only gratitude Xander had ever known was blood.

He knew their purposes to be different, but she had _something_. Something he could never obtain to have.

Desire to see her burned inside him like the craze of battle. Once the day was over, he said no more. To find her temple swiftly, he changed his form into that of a hawk to navigate the heavens above. He could easily feel for her aura and he was drawn to it like a honey trap. He had no desire to frighten her maiden attendants with his bloody form either, so he flew directly to the window that gave way to her bedroom.

Like his own, her room was plain and simple with only a vanity with a water basin and a bed in the center against the wall. As he perched on the sill, he noticed that she was sleeping soundly with a thin sheet over her petite body. Though, once she felt his presence, she slowly sat up and held the sheet against her chest, rubbing her eyes. “Xander?” she asked as she slipped off the bed, dragging the sheet with her. She reached an arm out towards him, giving him the cue to fly in.

Once he was inside, his feathers began to melt away as his fingers and arms emerged. In a flash, he had returned to the simple man’s body that he was accustomed too, wearing nothing. She gasped as the crimson returned to his form as well, dripping onto the floor. He hung his head and took small breaths as she dared to take a step closer. “Xander…” she said softly. “You’re…”

“…What is it?” he asked, his voice low and dejected. “What is it that you have?”

“I-I don’t know what you mean…”

“Tell me…” His eyes narrowed as the fires of battle had not yet died inside him yet. “All the mortals have ever given me is fear! They do not fear you! Tell me what it is!”

She gasped and took a step back, filling him with regret for losing his voice. Before he could apologize, she bravely stepped forward and reached a hand towards him. He wanted to swat her hand away, not wanting her to touch his form, but he did no such thing. She pressed her hand against a part of his chest that had not been stained and looked up with warm, yet glossy eyes that pierced his. “It’s love,” she said.

“…Love?” he asked, narrowing his brows. “But I thought only…” Of course. The mortals who worshipped her did so out of love and admiration for the gifts she brought. She brought nothing of fear or misery to them. “They…they love you the way they love each other…” Now his expression softened, the realization humbling him. He closed his eyes and hung his head. “How did I not see…see that before…”

She whispered, “You know of love?”

“…No,” he said. “Only that it exists…and now I know why it was hard for me to fathom…there is no place for love in war.”

“Of course there is,” she said, slipping her hand to his cheek. “What about the men who fight not for glory, but for their families?” His eyes widened. “Isn’t that love?”

“N-no…th-that can’t…but I’ve never…”

“You’ve never…felt love?”

“Out there, it’s only the ugliest of emotions. Deceit and greed of all kinds often overpower the purest of intentions…” He closed his eyes again. “It’s only fitting that I could never…I could never feel-“

His words were stopped when she stood on the tips of her toes and pressed her soft lips against his. Though it was barely a press, he could feel her warmth in all regions of his body that when she lowered herself back, he found that he missed her already. She managed a soft smile. “Did you feel that?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“…Yes…”

“See?” she said, still keeping quiet. “So maybe it is possible…”

He ran a hand over his chest, feeling it tighten. Xander nearly wanted to capture her in his arms and kiss her again, but that might have been his unquenched fire still lurching. She looked him up and down and sucked in her bottom lip. “…You want to feel more?”

“…Yes.” She reached for his hand. “W-wait, no…” he said. “It…I don’t want you to--“ She grasped it anyway as the red stained her palms and fingers. His lips parted as she took a step back towards her bed, then another. “What…are you doing?”

Mozu simply smiled with a certain calm in her eyes as she slipped onto the edge of the bed. She leaned back, gently pulling him towards her. “Wait,” he said. “No…this is…this is…”

“Xander?” she asked, concern written on her face. “What’s?…”

 “…I’ve seen men do this,” he said, “when they destroy the helpless villages.” She sat up a little, clutching the bed sheet around her. “This is how they harm the women…”

“…That’s what happens in war, but this is different. It could be that,” she said, “but it could also be…beautiful.”

He narrowed his brows. “How could something so violent ever be seen as such?”

Her red hand pulled away from his and rose to his shoulder as she let the sheet fall. She put her hands on his neck and pulled him onto the bed slowly, trying to ease him in. “Because it’s something that was intended to be beautiful. It’s something that gives way to new life…” She reached up, stroking some of his hair out of the way. “And if you want it, and I want it, then we’ll both feel that way.”

He frowned as he watched his hands press against the pale white sheets, blotching those too. His eyes looked her up and down and just seeing her bared to him brought some of the warmth of her kiss back. “…You can’t really want this with me…not when I’m…”

She leaned up, kissing him again. Just like that, his thoughts disappeared as she melded their lips together. He ignored all inhibitions and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her close against his bare chest. Her skin was so soft against the calloused and hardened muscles of his own that he wanted to see if she was soft like this all over. His lips wandered to her jaw and her neck, earning soft gasps from her as he kissed them. He stopped suddenly, wondering if she was afraid. She pressed a hand against the back of his head, stroking his golden curls. “I-it’s okay…” she said. “D-do what’d you like…”

He took the request carefully, making sure to listen at all times if she said otherwise. Still, it was the first time he felt such curiosity, such hunger for something that wasn’t cut flesh. She lied back on the bed, inviting him to touch and feel all of the lines and edges that made her body. First, he took her arms just to place them over her head. His lips reached down to kiss her neck and even suck on her skin. She let out a soft whimper as one hand slipped over her small breast. He left a deep print of red there as he watched how she reacted. Xander kept his eyes on her, even as he leaned over to suck on the tip. Her shoulders tensed as a small moan escaped from her tight lips. Pleased with her reaction, he tried it again, using the tip of his tongue as well.

She slipped her feet against the bed under him as he slid down her torso, leaving a small trail of hot kisses down to her navel. So far, she was warm and felt like silk. The salty taste of her skin reminded him of the sea, perhaps when she was toiling under the sun for her crops. Though it stung against his tongue, sweat had never tasted sweeter. Now her chest rose and fell with the audible breaths she took, crimson hand prints marking where he had held her. He pushed his lips against the skin of her inner thigh, leaving small bites and marks. Mozu whimpered again as he reached further and further down.

“X-Xander…” She shuddered as he split her legs. He wasn’t completely clueless; he knew that he would make her feel best from here. He also had a heated urge to kiss her here too…

Lowering his head, he ran his tongue down the line of her slit. From that, she twitched, quickly sucking air through her teeth. As he pushed his tongue in between, she arched her back with a soft moan. Hearing the sweetness in her voice encouraged him to keep going, but he kept a careful eye and ear out. Her skin warmed under his hands and the muscles in her legs tensed as she resisted movement. She kept her lips tight, making soft squirming whimpers as her arms reached back, fingers digging into her pillows. Everything she did addicted him further. He didn’t want to stop hearing her voice, feeling her body warm and shudder.

Soon, she had given up on repressing her sounds and she spoke his name through soft breaths. “Xander…Xander…”

It felt like a prayer, but much better. More sweet. More needing. More fulfilling…

Suddenly, her moans escalated and she sharply jolted her body. Furrowing his brows, he held onto her hips, pulling her closer. Her knees buckled against his arms as she arched her back more. Mozu’s body went taut until her voice stopped and she just about everything froze. As quickly as it did, she relaxed everything and tossed her head back with a deep sigh.

He pulled away and sat up to watch her as she stared at him with half-lidded eyes. Her hair spilled over her shoulders and on her pillows as her chest rose and fell at a slow, yet steady pace. When she smiled, she completed the look of being in pure bliss. He hadn’t seen anyone so beautiful before…

Mozu reached for his hand and pressed it against the middle of her chest. Her skin still felt hot and silky, but it was underneath that intrigued him. Her heart beat fast against his palm and ever so slowly began to dwindle until it was just soft enough that he couldn’t feel it anymore. He felt his own chest tighten with the desire to feel that same thrill. She pulled on his shoulder to bring him closer until she could wrap her arms around him and feel his chest against hers. Xander captured her into a deep kiss, one arm around her waist and another holding her thigh. New lust had burned into his core and couldn’t think of anything he wanted besides being closer and closer to her.

She bit his lip on the first push as she opened her eyes. “Are you okay?” he whispered, not breaking eye contact.

“Yes…”

He pressed his forehead against hers, gently easing himself within her as he held her against him. Her walls felt tight and hot, and he was nearly too afraid to move further. Mozu leaned forward, kissing his cheek. She ran her hand through his gold hair again and placed a chaste kiss on his lips again. He stared deep into her eyes, watching her expression to see if he hurt her as he started rocking his hips. Her lips parted, giving way to shaky gasps as he shuddered from the sudden influx of warmth spiking to his core.

His senses dulled to any outside sensations and sharpened only to feeling anything from her. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, he knew that he was at his weakest and some force could stab him in his back. He felt more vulnerable the more he continued. But in a strange mix of emotion, he also felt…safe. Safe to be in her arms and she in his, hearing their low voices moan together. He could not keep his eyes off her as he watched how she reacted to certain movements. He wanted her to feel the same sense of lost as he did, kneading her breast and kissing her neck.

Overtime, the small thrusts and grasps built up faster and harder. Her nails dug into his back as her legs squeezed around his hips. The red hand curled around her thigh not only left a hand-print, but indented marks where his fingers pressed into her flesh. Every breath and second that passed, his body felt more alive as pleasurable heat scorched every fiber of his being. Though he had felt similar waves in the throes of battle, none compared to the shared sensation of mutual warmth as this. Unlike war, he never wanted this to end.

All at once, every muscle in him tightened and he suddenly gripped harder and thrust harder. She tossed her head back, her moans escalating into soft cries. He clenched his teeth before he gasped her name, once then twice. Finally, he reached the apex of his ability and the heat within him burst. He felt dizzy and muddled from the overload of euphoria coursing through him as his body relaxed and he dropped the tension in his muscles.

Xander collapsed on his side right next to her as he panted softly, feeling completely drained. He strained to keep his eyes open to watch her. Mozu only turned her head to him at first, her body occasionally jolting from the aftershocks. She slowly turned on her side to face him and slipped her hand now stained with deep red marks onto his chest, right on the center. His own heart beat pounded against his chest, and like he did with her, she kept her palm on him until the beat returned to a softer pace. She smiled as her body glistened, despite how he had marked her all over with deep scarlet.

His eyes grew heavy and each blink became harder to open. He tried to fight off his exhaustion to keep this fantasy going. Mozu scooted closer and brushed some stray hairs from his face. In a low whisper, she said, “you can sleep if you want.”

“But…”

“Shh…” She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “You’re safe here.”

* * *

 Dawn spread her rosy fingers in the sky and brought light to the heavens and earth. Mozu was the first to awake and sit up, the blanket falling from her body. She looked over at her side to see the Son of First Blood sound asleep right next to her. Though he was anything but, he slept like a child. He made no noises other than the soft breaths of air he sighed out, and he hadn’t moved an inch. As she looked over his body and her own, she noticed that the blood of mortals had vanished overnight and neither were no longer tainted with its color. Before she had slept that night, she had examined the marks that he left, certain places obvious where he caressed the most. Looking back on it now, for someone who had never lied with someone, he was surprisingly…perceptive.

She had noticed how he kept his complete attention on her, gauging and watching how she flinched and gasped against certain touches. Instead of using her body as an outlet of frustration, he had worshipped her. Truly, he fascinated her to no extent. He acted callous and bitter, but he still had a desire to find the missing pieces. Even now, as he slept, he looked the complete opposite of a warmonger.

He suddenly awakened with a gasp. “Xander?” she said, leaning down and putting a hand on his shoulder. He blinked in surprise. “You’re here at my temple…don’t you remember?”

“…of course,” he said, closing his eyes and rubbing them with his fingers. He sat up on his elbow with a soft groan. “I…I just thought that…” She tilted her head. “I thought last night was a rouse sent to me by the Dreamkeeper. But it wasn’t…right?”

Mozu shook her head with a soft chuckle. “It was real,” she said, leaning on her elbows too. “Did…did you like it?”

She swore she saw a faint dash of pink in his cheeks. “H-how could I not? I think…saying that I enjoyed it would be too much of an understatement.”

She laughed, then scooted closer to him. “…You were good.”

“Good as in...?” She nodded once and watched him scratch the back of his neck. “Y-you flatter me…I don’t think I knew what to do,”

“It’s all instinct anyway,” she said, reaching up to push some of his hair back. “Which...from you being…you, I guess, you must be familiar with it.” When she said “instinct” his eyes flickered. He put a hand on the arm that reached for him and held his gaze. Using her arm, he pulled her close to surprise her with a deep kiss. Mozu let out a soft, muffled gasp, but it quickly faded into a soft moan as he pushed her back on her bed.

It seemed like he took that to heart. She moaned against his lips as he deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms around her. Mozu was prepared to break away, to grant him access to her neck and chest. But suddenly, their lips smacked as he quickly pulled away and turned his head towards her open window. Her heart sunk; she could guess what that meant. Xander knit his eyebrows together in frustration as he hung his head with a sigh. With a frown, she asked, “Is that the call?” He nodded once. She sat up and held his head in her hands. “Don’t go…”

“I have to,” he said, his voice low. “I have no choice…”

She narrowed her brows. “…Then come back,”

“…What?”

“Then come back,” she said, this time with more confidence. “I’ll be waiting here.”

He put a hand on hers, holding it like it would break if he grasped too hard. Mozu closed her eyes as he leaned in for a ginger, chaste kiss. She tried to hold him for as long as she could until she could no longer feel his warmth around her. She opened her eyes and he was gone, leaving but a single hawk feather on her legs.

* * *

 The winter months always provided her with peace as much of her labor had finished for the season. Until spring, she could stay in her temple and be attended by her maidens. That day, they sat in the garden that bloomed all year long and made flower crowns from its bushes. The younger, child maidens ran around in the grass with bare feet and dirt on their dresses. As the elder girls braided her hair and wove the crowns, she stared towards her lap.

So far, the city and fields that she looked over were safe from the rages of war, but the foreign invaders inched toward the far borders each day. There was nothing she could do as a deity of grains that was out of season, but…

She could at least pray for the wellbeing of Xander. The mortals often gave him ominous names that, after knowing him, she wondered if he even deserved them. She never questioned his strength and power, but was he as cruel as they made him out to be? The man she slept with last night did not remind her of a ruthless demon that deserved to bear the lifeblood of fallen mortals. No, to her, he was…lost. After everything he hadn’t seen or felt, it was clear that he missed out on life’s simple pleasures that even mortals had rights to. Though at first pity might have pushed her to do the things she did for him, now she really, truly wanted to help him find himself. What he could be.

* * *

He came the next night in the same fashion. Crimson bled on his arms and legs again, reminding her of the way he left prints and indentations of red, marking her like sacrifice to him. Though she knew he thought nothing but highly of her, a thrilling shiver traveled down her spine. She slipped out of bed and went to him, reaching a hand to his face. His eyes were half-lidded and drooped, yet, he still reached for her hand. He pressed her warm palm against his cheek and closed his eyes with a soft sigh. “They’re close,” he said, knitting his brows.

Her expression sobered. “…I know,” she said, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “…How are you holding up?”

“…I’ll manage.” Mozu forced a small smile as she took his hand and pulled him into the room. “Wait.” Xander stood still in his spot. “I have to know something…”

“Yes?” she asked, not breaking eye contact.

“What do you gain from this?” he asked. “Allowing me into your room…looking like this?”

Mozu frowned and squeezed his hands. “Do I…have to get something out of this?” she said. “I don’t want to gain anything from you. I-it’s kind of the opposite…”

“…It is?”

“Yes. I want… I want to help you…”

Xander’s brows lifted as his lips parted. He relaxed his shoulders and looked down at their hands before he looked back to her, letting go. He took a step back. “N-no…this isn’t…”

“X-Xander?”

“You’re…you’re just allowing me to do this because…you pity me?”

“I…I might have in the beginning--“

“But you did!”

She rose her voice. “Yes, but is that so bad? Is that so terrible?”

He dropped his head onto his hand, marking his cheek and forehead with scarlet. “…It is,” he said, voice strained. “Because…if I use you selfishly, then how am I better than…” He stood up straight, shaking his head. “I believed you when you said it could be beautiful if you and I wanted it... So did you…really?”

She pouted, standing up straight and putting her hands on her hips. She spoke brashly, saying, “I knew what I was doing!” He blinked, suddenly his expression humbled. “If I still pitied you…” her voice calmed down, “then I wouldn’t have let you,”

“…Then why?” he asked.

“Because…” she said, reaching for his hand again, “I wanted to feel it with you…so, maybe,” she laughed, “I was being a little selfish.” His brows lifted as he pressed his lips into a thin line. “As for why I visited you, I meant what I said. I want to help you.” She took his other hand and pulled on him a little. “I want to help you see that there’s more to Xander than just being the patron of war.”

He frowned. “But it is what I was born for. You don’t really believe that there could be more…?”

“Why not?” she said, tilting her head. “Isn’t that why you’re here? To find out what it could be?” She giggled seeing his look of surprise. “You can start by telling me something you like.”

“…I like you.”

“O-Oh…” Now her cheeks were rosy. “Mmm…that’s a start.”

For the first time tonight, a subtle smile rose on his lips. He pulled her closer again, but this time, he leaned down and lifted her into his arms. Mozu let out a small “oh!” but she smiled through it, looking into his eyes. “Is…this okay?”

“Yes, it is…” She rested her forehead against his as he carried her towards her bed. “…I missed you,” she said, though just admitting it made her look away.

He put one knee on the bed and stopped. “I missed you too,” he told her. Xander set her on her back and leaned in for a kiss.

* * *

Before Dawn could bring her light to the world, the call stirred him awake. At this hour? They must be desperate. He sat up, looking down at the sleeping goddess next to him and pushing some hairs away from her cheeks. Such a lucky and amazing existence and she chose to share some of it with him. Him, of all entities. He knew he had done nothing to earn it, but maybe he would stop questioning it for now. Already, he missed her. Xander leaned over, kissing her eyelid before he vanished from her bed.

Weeks had passed.

The foreign conqueror inched closer to the central border each day and his people were growing tired. What the enemies lacked in finesse, they made up for in numbers. A man could fight one day and rest for three with plenty of others to take his place. The prayers began to dwindle ever so slightly as hope slowly faded over the days.

On the last two days, Xander focused all of his power into defending one of the great walls that stretched over the fields for miles. He knew he would lose many men on the other fronts, but this was the crucial one. If they broke through here, they could easily march to the fields…march to that city…

The battle started in the early hours of night and did not stop until the dawn of the day after. Again, he had spread his influence everywhere at once. He pushed power into their arms so that they could hold their shields and strike their swords. Stay steady! He thought. Can’t let them win. Can’t let them over power.

It was too much. In a sudden push, the invaders ran over the stones of the wall and placed their feet on its ground. Too many of them flooded over it like a waterfall. Xander felt pain shear him at all sides as his people, his prayers, were slaughtered. He grunted in pain and twisted his face as he winced. All his eyes, covered in red, could see were the bodies piling up. He couldn’t stand or breathe as all hope diminished. For the first time, he had lost.

Pain that he had never experienced before tore through his entire being. He couldn’t see or grasp any sense of reality. As his vision went black, he only moved his lips to call her name.

 _Mozu…Mozu_ …!

He suddenly awoke with a gasp and panting breaths. The intense pain had faded into mere stings as he regained feeling in his limbs and sight. Before him was the worried look of the Lady of Spring. She held him in his arms and he realized that they were lying on his bed in his room. On either side of his bed, two fires burned on the candles residing in pots of oil, barely luminating the dark maroon colors of his bed and walls. When his eyes met hers, she sighed in relief. “You’re okay…” she said softly.

Xander groaned and blinked slowly, trying not to move. “What…happened?” He felt sweet juice drops on his tongue. “Hm?” He glanced his eyes down to see a pomegranate beside her, bitten into.

She sighed, frowning again. “You lost,”

“That’s…I _never_ lose,”

“You couldn’t help it,” she said. “They were too much. Your…our people lost their faith.” She turned to the pomegranate. “At least…most of them,”

“Then how did I…?”

She smiled. “I…gave you some of mine,”

“Your… faith?”

She nodded. “Each of my fruits is made with a special kind of prayer that comes from me and my people,” she said, presenting the pomegranate. “I…I wasn’t sure if it would work, b-but I had to try. I just squeezed some juice and uh…”

“…I see,” he said, propping himself to sit up. Despite his lingering pangs, in his heart, he felt the blissful warmth that he had whenever they were close. “…Thank you…but how did you know to come?”

“Hm?” she asked, still holding an arm around him. “Whaddaya mean? You called me,”

“I did?...oh, I did,” he said, rubbing his head. “I…I hope I didn’t pull you away from anything.”

She laughed, sending some joy back to him. “Not at all. Nothin to do until…spring, really.” Mozu put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing to comfort him. “How do you feel?”

He looked down at himself, his battle armor stripped away as he only wore a crumpled bed sheet over his lap for modesty. He tried rolling his shoulders, but he felt stiff, like stone. His fingers could barely move with any finesse and any other movement shot more needles through his skin. “Damn…” he muttered. “I might be worse than I thought…”

Mozu bit her lip, running a hand over his shoulder and collar bone. “Gosh…” she said. “You’re cold too…” As she said that, the fires on the candles died down to small lights.

He narrowed his brows. “I’m…what’s happening?”

“I dunno…I’ve never felt or seen this before.” She reached up to his cheek. “…You’re not at full strength either…maybe it’s…”

“The faith,” he answered. “It’s…dwindled. I can feel the prayers growing less and less…” He groaned a little, his head throbbing too. “I’ll need more…”

She nodded quickly and turned back to the pomegranate, picking out some of the seeds. He ate them from her fingers, sucking on their juices and swallowing. After a minute, nothing. Instead, he coughed and held his chest. “Oh no…”

“Dammit…” he muttered. “What…what can I even do?”

Mozu sat up, holding his shoulders with her hands. “…You can lie back,” she said, her eyes narrowing.

“Wh-what?” She pushed his back onto his pillow, allowing him to relax but still see her. “Y-you can’t seriously make me rest!”

“I’m not,” she said, straddling him and leaning in close. His eyes widened as she tilted his chin up. “I’m…going to share…”

“Share your?...”

“My prayers. But, this time, more directly.”

He scoffed, holding back to urge to cough again. “H-how would that…even work?”

Mozu pressed her forehead against his, effectively silencing him as she whispered. “Just…trust me…”

He blinked in surprise as she slowly leaned in for the kiss. No part of him resisted her soft lips caressing his. This time, she tilted her head in a way so their lips perfectly molded together. Her tongue slipped through, running over his bottom lip. He closed his eyes slowly, allowing her to do as she wished. She inched away just enough so that their heads still touched.

Xander felt like he was in a daze, now being on the receiving end of affection. Her kisses were soft and sweet, even on places like his neck and collar bone. She hesitated a little as well, but only because she was not used to it.

The dream suddenly became real when she reached under the sheet, grasping his length. He hissed under his breath, the sudden movement jolting him awake almost. She pressed her lips below his ear, quieting him with calm shushing. “Don’t move…” she said, her soft hand moving up and down. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the slow burn inside him. She didn’t grasp him for long, but it was enough to warm his core again. Instead, he felt her shift and press her chest against his. Suddenly, he let out a small gasp she brought him inside her. She moved at shy, painstaking pace, but she looked him deep the eyes without fail. _Do you feel me?_ He heard her ask in his head.

Nearly just like the first time, his senses dulled to anything that wasn’t her. He could barely hear his and her breaths or even her small whimpers. Though she didn’t speak, her voice filled his mind, chanting his name over and over again. In such a short amount of time, she filled his body with tender warmth. Prayers to him had never felt so pure before.

Xander regained feeling back into his arms, and he wrapped them around her. One traveled under her dress, holding her hips. Mozu gasped as he guided her into a faster pace. He leaned forward, holding the back of her head and kissing her neck. “Ngh…” she moaned. “Xan…der…”

Saying his name was like sweet music to him; it richened him like nothing had before. The candle fires had grown to shine brighter than when he first awoke. He hadn’t a clue what kind of sorcery it was that made him feel so _alive_ when he was with her.

He needed to hear her more. Quite easily now, he lifted her with his arms and set on her back. He leaned down, pulling the dress over her head and seizing her into a kiss. She moaned into his lips as he started a harsher pace that pushed a soft mewl from her voice each time. He pulled from the kiss, a thin thread of saliva connected the tips of their tongues. “Please…” he begged. “Say it more…”

Mozu reached up, cupping his cheeks in her hands. On each exhale, she whispered his name with such sweetness. “Xander…Xander…” She winced once, wrapping her legs around him. The fires faintly rose and fell with each breath, getting stronger by the second. He lifted her hips a little, trying to press against her sweet spot. She cried out louder, her fingers digging into his back. His bed even creaked below all of the other sounds. He leaned down to bite at her neck, feeling the vibrations of her voice as she moaned his name more. “Xander…Xander!”

With a sudden gasp, her mewls began to escalate as she tightened around him. Arching her back, she moaned his name sweetly. With that, his own fingers dug into her flesh, and he groaned her name from the back of his throat. Just like that, his chest and core burst with sudden, yet ebbing bliss as it coursed through every little bit of his body, from his feet to his fingertips. Color returned to his skin, the pain only a memory. For a second, the fires had died before they slowly flickered back to normal. Mozu panted, her fingers sliding down to his shoulders. She smiled at him, her lips parted so she could breathe easier. Xander leaned down and placed a ginger kiss onto her lips as she hummed a soft “Mmm….”

He only pulled his lips away, pressing his forehead against hers as he spoke in a gentle whisper. “Where would I be without you?...”

She reached up, pushing back some of his golden waves. “Let’s…not think about that.”

“…Will you be fine?” he asked, caressing her cheek. “This wouldn’t...hurt you, would it?”

Mozu shook her head. “Even if it did, you need it more than I do…”

“That…that can’t be true,”

“It is. The mortals don’t need me now…they need you.” His brows lifted. “You need to protect them and end the war.”

He narrowed his eyes, realizing the truth in her words. Quickly, he placed a kiss on her forehead and sat up, slipping away to stand on the floor. Mozu took a little more time in sitting up, pressing her hand against her lower stomach. Xander moved to the far window in his room and looked down at the lands below. Maybe he had been going about this war the wrong way. Maybe it took more than just him as a guiding spirit to win it. The invaders were advancing further towards the villages and fields, so if there was any time to stop them, it was now. He would have to go on the offensive.

“You’re right,” he said, turning toward her. “…You always were.”

“Awe…” She pushed some hair away from her face as he came back, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I have to go…will you…?”

She nodded. “I’ll stay,” she said, crawling closer. “I’ll be here…I promise.”

* * *

Very few times in his life did he make his appearance known to mortals. In combat, he was there in the form of a guidance spirit as he watched over his warriors. This time, his enemies had scorned his ire and he wanted nothing but to drive his legendary weapon through their flesh and bone. This time, as well, he had a good reason for it. This wasn’t to earn honor, or glory, or prove that he was indeed the strongest of them all. No, this was to protect his home. Protect the land, the fields, the city that he and goddess held dear.

Nothing would get through him. Riding his black steed and adorned in his full, obsidian armor, he rode down to the mortal world to his shrines and altars. He came in a particularly cold, blistering wind, making his presence and identity both known. The priests gaped and fell to their knees, bowing to him. He visited every sacred temple that worshipped him and made his message known. “You will join me in battle and fight by my side.”

In no time at all, he lifted the fighting spirits of his warriors, igniting the fires in their bellies for war. He kicked the horse’s sides and rode swiftly onto the battlefield where the enemy had set camp on his land. Though, he was not alone, and he heard the roar of shouts behind him. The invaders mobilized themselves quickly, prepared to defend the land they just stole. A figure on horse stood at front; had to be the conqueror. Xander narrowed his eyes, hand reaching for the hilt of his sacred blade. As he slowly unsheathed it, Siegfried pulsed with dark energies until he lifted it over his head, sending waves of pure energy towards his enemies. Just with that show of power, his army behind him cheered his name. With a long shout, he pointed his blade towards the invaders and led the charge towards them.

Fighting mortals in the flesh like this was child’s play. None of their lances, swords, or arrows stuck or pierced his skin. Siegfried sent them to the underworld in seconds. In just a minute, he had left twenty bodies in his wake. Though, he had bigger pray to catch.

The conqueror was peerless in battle as well, and many of Xander’s men died when confronting him. He knew from the start that this was his fight, his victory. He kicked his horse’s sides and galloped towards the commander. Once before him, the commander spoke. “You!” he shouted. “Tell me who are you!”

He smirked. “I am Xander. The Son of First Blood. The patron of warfare!”

The man scoffed. “You claim to be divine, do you?” His carried a mocking tone. “Why of all times did you descend, O Great One?”

Gripping the hilt of Siegfried, Xander sneered. “This land is under my protection,” he said. “And it’s about time that I stop you myself,”

“Haha! Your scare tactics won’t work on me,” he said, raising his sword over his head. “Where I come from, there are no gods! I will prove to you that you are mere flesh and blood!”

“And you, the same!” Xander kicked his horse’s sides, rearing up before charging towards the conqueror.

All at once, even though he fully intended to mount this man’s head on a pike, a certain heat protected his heart. He burned inside, just as he usually did went he fought, but it did not scorch him. It fueled and warmed him, and he felt no hesitance when he lifted his sword. They both shouted, preparing to strike each other down in this clash, but only one would emerge the victor.

The conqueror’s steel sword shattered upon impact with Xander’s armor, like cheap glass. In the same moment, Siegfried pierced right through, skewering the man through the stomach. Pulling him off his horse, Xander reached for his neck, clenching it between his claw-like armor. Once proud, the man now sputtered out blood that stained his teeth as his eyes looked upon Xander like he was Death Himself. His hands pawed at Xander’s but had not the strength to grasp. He brought him close, his tone low and riddled with danger as he glared daggers. “If your sons, your nephews, even your dogs come to avenge you, know that I will mount all of their heads on pikes right next to yours.” Xander’s hand tightened around Siegfried and made a final horizontal slash, cutting the man in two. His lower half fell onto the grass as entrails and scarlet oozed from him. He turned nearby to see an enemy soldier, trembling in his armor and bulging his eyes at him. Xander merely smirked and tossed the slaughtered upper half towards him. The solider fell on his back, screaming as the half-corpse fell atop him. His people cheered and shouted once they saw that the conqueror had fallen. He raised their spirits with the strong surge of faith that emerged from his victory and led his army to push back every last invader that dared to cross his borders.

The battle lasted for hours, but only due to the sheer number of invaders. By the end, many of them had quickly lost their resolve and retreated with their tails between their legs. At the stone wall he failed to protect once, now, Xander stood atop his mount, looking over his vast plains. Behind him, his people cheered his name and banged their lances against the ground like drums of war. With an earnest smile, he turned back towards them and held up a hand to silence them. Suddenly, the sea of men parted as a man with highly decorative armor walked down, his cape flowing behind him. A general, he thought. Xander dismounted and met him, extending his hand. The general looked it first before kneeling down, pressing Xander’s hand against his forehead. “O Great Lord…you have truly honored and protected us with your presence.”

“It needed to be done. Please, rise.” He let go of his hand and did as he asked.

“Though we appreciate beyond all measures, I…I must ask, Milord…” He cleared his throat. “For what reason did you grace us?”

His expression softened and he looked up to the sky for a moment. “This land and its people…are all very precious to someone dear to me. Therefore, they are precious to me as well.” He smiled softly. “I could not let the foreigners desolate and pervert it for their own means.” The general blinked in surprise as he continued his story. “However, I could not do it without her…or your prayers. So,” he said, turning back to his horse, “if you wish to make it up to me, make sure that the Harvest Goddess’s festival for this upcoming season is the best that you have ever done,”

“A-and for you, O Great One?”

Xander mounted his horse and looked down. “Carry on with your faith,” he said, “and I will be with you the next time we must defend this land.”

The general nodded once and knelt down on his knee once more, bowing his head. In a wave of activity, the row of men behind him did the same, then the other, until every last soldier had bowed. He breathed in once, feeling his strength at a peak that he had never experienced before. “General,” he said, calling his attention. “I must be on my way…she waits for me.” Saying it aloud made him feel so good.

He kicked the mount’s sides and rode on the wind back to the heavens. Once he arrived at the entrance of his temple, he dismounted and strode in. There, she was waiting for him. Once they met eye contact, she gasped in joy, her eyes lighting up. She ran to him and leaped into his open arms. “Oof! This armor’s tough,” she said with a laugh.

“My apologies,” he said, still smiling as she stood back on the floor, looking up at him.

“You…I heard everything you said. It’s…it’s all true?”

“Yes,” he said, holding her hand. “I would never say it if I didn’t mean it.”

Her cheeks went rosy, but only because of her bliss. She looked down at his arms, stroking them up and down. “Hey…you’re not bleeding.” He froze, eyes blinking as he looked down.

“You’re right…how am I not…?”

Mozu shrugged. “Who knows,” she said. “You obviously did something different this time,”

“Mm…you are correct there.” He might not have known was it was clearly, but he knew that something did change. He felt so much lighter than he did before. It was all because of her too. He smirked and pulled her closer. “Have you…anywhere to be?”

“Hm?” she asked, tilting her head. Suddenly, she grinned too. “Well…winter isn’t over yet.”

“I see…” Xander leaned down lifted her up into his arms, earning a giggle from her. He spoke again as he started to walk to his chambers. “Then have you some time to spare beforehand?...”

She leaned in and wrapped her arms around his neck. “For you?” she said, her voice hushed. “All of it…”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! If you want more Xander x Mozu and some Leo x Sakura(lmfao) feel free to check out my ongoing fic, The Princess and the Pauper over here --> http://archiveofourown.org/works/6945550/chapters/15839599  
> Thanks for your comments and kudos as well!


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